


to love you well

by drowsydaffodil



Series: i need to think [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bottom Sakusa Kiyoomi, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mating Cycles, Omega Sakusa Kiyoomi, Post-Timeskip, Pre-Heats, Top Miya Atsumu, there's no sex but kiyoomi is still the bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28402998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drowsydaffodil/pseuds/drowsydaffodil
Summary: Miya Atsumu woke up that morning to the sweet smell of cinnamon and spice, before his alarm could even go off, and sighed in apprehension.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: i need to think [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2082693
Comments: 23
Kudos: 435





	1. anise

**Author's Note:**

> tw: needles

Miya Atsumu woke up that morning to the sweet smell of cinnamon and spice, before his alarm could even go off, and sighed in apprehension.

He kept his eyes closed for a few minutes, basking in the warmth of the body curled on top of his and the sun that spilled through the curtains, before gathering enough courage to nuzzle his face into the dark curls that were tickling his cheek. Kiyoomi didn’t even stir, which only confirmed Atsumu’s suspicions.

 _Pre-heat._ It was terribly inconvenient, given that they had a match scheduled for that weekend, but they had been expecting it. Kiyoomi’s cycle was very regular, so it was very easy to predict when his heats were going to hit.

It didn’t make having to deal with the preparations any easier, though.

“Omi,” Atsumu whispered, brushing his lips against his mate’s temple. “It’s time to wake up, baby.”

He was rewarded with a small, unhappy whine, which made his lips curve into a soft smile. He pressed them against Kiyoomi’s forehead, insistently, then frowned when he noticed how warm he felt. It wasn’t unusual for his mate to get a slight fever before his heats, but it was always hard for Atsumu not to fret.

“Leave me alone,” Kiyoomi _demanded,_ in that petulant tone that made him sound like a child who hadn’t gotten their own way, as he burrowed his face deeper into Atsumu’s neck.

Atsumu had to hide a smirk into his hair. He took in a deep breath, filling his lungs with his mate’s honeyed scent, this time also managing to make out that very faint tinge of black tea that he _adored._ He was purring before he could help himself —he did that an awful lot more than Kiyoomi—, and that finally earned him a contented little sigh.

“Yer pre-heat is startin’,” Atsumu said, still keeping his tone low, aware of how sensitive his mate’s senses became when his heat was approaching. “We need to get ya in the bath now if we wanna make it on time for practice.”

It’d be a while until the suppressors kicked in, and they needed to be ready in two hours. The only thing that would appropriately conceal Kiyoomi’s scent on time for that would be a long soak in hot water infused with blockers, given that Kiyoomi’s skin didn’t fare well with patches.

“Want to stay here.”

Atsumu cooed.

“Ya will kick my ass later if I let ya do that, darlin’,” he said, sliding a hand up and down his sulky mate’s narrow waist. “Ya love baths, c’mon. I’ll even let ya sleep a little more there. But ya need to let me go so I can prepare it for ya.”

Kiyoomi let out a disgruntled little growl, but he finally started to rouse. His long eyelashes tickled Atsumu’s skin as his eyes fluttered open, and when he finally lifted his head, Atsumu’s heart skipped a beat.

Kiyoomi blinked sluggishly at him, his lips pursed into a lovely pout, completely unaware of what his striking beauty was doing to Atsumu’s heart. A pink flush sat high on his cheekbones, contrasting sharply against his pale skin, and it reminded Atsumu terribly of the gorgeous shade of red his hand would leave behind on his mate’s backside after a shameless display of _unruliness._

His cock twitched in interest, encouraged by the faint but delicious smell of an omega — _his_ omega— so close to entering into heat, but it was easy to push those thoughts away. Omi was most likely _sore_ already; he’d started complaining of cramps only a few days before. His uncooperative attitude was _not_ being prompted by the sheer need to show defiance to his alpha, like usually, but by the discomfort that came with pre-heat.

Kiyoomi dropped his head to nuzzle his neck one last time, covering himself in his scent, and any trace of horniness left in Atsumu faded away in a blink. Another purr rumbled low in his chest, and this only encouraged Kiyoomi to rub his cheek against his skin even more insistently. His sweet, sweet omega.

“I’ll drown you if you don’t disinfect the tub first,” Kiyoomi reminded, very _unsweetly,_ in Atsumu’s opinion, before giving him a sharp nip. Atsumu started and tried to pinch him in retaliation, but Kiyoomi was already crawling to climb down off the bed.

“Hey, wait,” Atsumu caught him gently by the hip, and was fairly surprised when all that got him in return was a glare and not another bite or a hiss. Kiyoomi could be rather _disagreeable_ before his first cup of tea during his pre-heats. “Not yet. Ya need yer suppressants first, Omi.”

He let his hand wander down to pat his mate’s pert ass, significantly, and didn’t miss the small wince of understanding that flashed across Kiyoomi’s face. It was gone in seconds, however, replaced by cold calm. His scent didn’t even waver in the slightest.

“Okay,” Kiyoomi agreed, rolling over to lay back down on his belly and burrowing his face into the pillow. “Hurry.”

Atsumu nodded fiercely, even though Kiyoomi couldn’t see him, and leaned to press one last kiss against the top of his head before sliding off the bed.

Despite his promise, he still went to the kitchen to prepare Kiyoomi a cup of that fancy high-quality matcha his parents always brought for him whenever they visited. It was a pain to whisk it until there were no clumps left and to froth the milk, much more effort than Atsumu’s coffee required; but he knew his mate would need it.

Kiyoomi was going through his phone when he came back into the room, which he rarely did when he’d just woken up. He preferred to ignore his messages for as long as he could. Atsumu left the tea on the small table by the bed and kissed his forehead again, because he just could never get enough of that, and then went to prepare the bath.

Kiyoomi was usually the one to do all of that. Not because Atsumu was lazy —though he was, only a little—, but because Kiyoomi tended to get anxious when things weren’t done the exact way he needed them to be done. On top of that, Kiyoomi used to wake up with the first ray of sunshine, no alarms needed. So the few times Atsumu got to spoil him a little were really nice.

Giving Kiyoomi his suppressants, now.

That wasn’t as nice.

Atsumu tested the water with his hand to make sure it was hot enough so it’d still be warm when they were ready to get into it, and then he went to wash his hands very thoroughly and rummaged through their very well stocked medicine drawers. He took one of Kiyoomi’s prescription suppressants and one of the cute fox band-aids that were usually reserved for himself, prone to small accidents as he was, and finally went to join his mate back on the bed.

He sat down next to Kiyoomi as he opened the box with the medicine, making sure his mate could see what he was doing —he’d get very anxious otherwise—, and palmed his forehead when he realized he’d forgotten the ice pack.

“It’s okay,” Kiyoomi said, knowing already what had happened before Atsumu even opened his mouth. “It doesn’t make a difference anyway.”

Atsumu winced as he very carefully retrieved one of the two pre-filled glass syringes that contained the suppressant. The other one would be used that same night, to deliver the full dose Kiyoomi needed for his heat to last a few hours instead of days.

“I thought it was meant to numb yer skin,” Atsumu said, frowning as he fumbled with the capped needle that came separately. He always struggled to attach it to the syringe.

“It always hurts,” Kiyoomi declared, bluntly, and Atsumu almost let the assembled syringe fall to the carpet. Which would have been catastrophic, since it was a very expensive medicine and there was no way in hell Kiyoomi would’ve let him come anywhere near his skin with it after that. “It’s okay. It’s not like I have an option.”

Atsumu sighed deeply.

It was true. In Kiyoomi’s case, any kind of oral suppressants were out of the question. None of them sat well with his stomach, and some even gave him all the possible secondary effects to be had. The doctor hadn’t thought of it as something serious, because he was already mated to an alpha that could help him through his heats; but volleyball made it very complicated to just comply with his cycle.

The only solution? Injections that made his usually stoic mate _whimper_ when administered.

Atsumu abhorred needles.

“Okay, baby. It’s ready. Close yer eyes for me, okay?”

Kiyoomi glared at him, of course, then proceeded to do exactly the opposite and craned his neck to look back as Atsumu moved to straddle his thighs. Atsumu pushed his shirt up and out of the way with gentle fingers, brushing tenderly his mate’s warm skin as he slowly exposed it.

It took all of his willpower not to kiss all and every single one of the moles that decorated Kiyoomi’s backside. There’d be more time later, maybe that night, to do that.

“Omi,” Atsumu warned, letting a small growl slip into his voice. “Look the other way, baby.”

Kiyoomi bared his teeth at him, so Atsumu fixed him with a glare of his own, narrowing his eyes.

“ _Omega_ ,” he hissed. “Eyes to the front.”

Kiyoomi’s nose scrunched up in indignation, but he finally obeyed and buried his face back into the pillow. Atsumu allowed himself to relax, then, and praised him softly as he smoothed a hand down his back.

“That’s a good boy,” he said. Then he ripped open the small package that contained the alcohol wipe and focused on disinfecting a small patch of Kiyoomi’s skin in silence. After that he finally took the syringe an uncapped the needle, recalling all the instructions the doctor had given him when he’d taught him to give Omi his shots. “I’m countin’ to three. One, two…”

He’d already done this two times before, but he would simply never get used to the sound of his mate whimpering in pain. Kiyoomi didn’t usually cry when something hurt, so it was distressing to hear him whine, no matter how softly he did.

“It’s okay,” Atsumu cooed, depressing the plunger steadily and moving to rest a hand on Kiyoomi’s hip to keep him in place when he started squirming a bit. “It’s okay, Omi. It’s almost done.”

He hadn’t known how painful hormones were before. Kiyoomi would take most vaccines and booster shots like they were nothing, but _this_?

“It’s over,” Atsumu announced, taking the needle out. Kiyoomi sighed and finally relaxed under his touch as he rubbed soothing circles on the sore spot with the alcohol wipe.

He covered the small dot with the band-aid and pulled his mate’s shirt back to its place. Then, after recapping the needle and putting the syringe away, he allowed himself to lean into Kiyoomi’s face to shower him in kisses and praise.

“Ya did so well, Omi,” Atsumu whispered. “Such a _good omega. My_ omega.”

He felt Kiyoomi melt under his ministrations, and the alpha in him purred in satisfaction. Kiyoomi wasn’t one to take praise easily, so the rare times when Atsumu managed to make him feel like he deserved it always tasted like victory.

Letting their partners give them a shot might not exactly be a big accomplishment for most omegas. But for Kiyoomi, who usually didn’t even let anyone _touch him,_ who sometimes mistrusted even _doctors and nurses_ too, allowing Atsumu to do all of that without attempting to bite or scratch —like he had done the first two times— was something that deserved _all the praise._

He eventually managed to kiss away the few tears that’d dampened his mate’s cheeks and helped him into the bathroom, bringing his tea with them. Kiyoomi limped a bit, he always did for a few minutes right after the shot, but hopefully the warm water would help with the soreness.

Practice would still be hell, as well as the next dose, but at least they’d already sorted out the first part of it all.

All what was left for the morning was pampering his mate until he forgot about the sting.

“Already feelin’ a bit better?” Atsumu asked, after they’d been soaking in the warm water for fifteen minutes, his cheek pressed against Kiyoomi’s, his mate’s back flush against his chest. The smell of cinnamon and star anise was still quite persistent, but at least Kiyoomi was soft and pliant in his arms, the water working wonders for the discomfort pre-heat came with. “Yer lookin’ a lot better to me.”

“You used the measuring spoons,” Kiyoomi observed, as he took another small sip of his tea, his dark eyelashes brushing his own cheeks as he looked down into the cup. “And the bamboo whisk.”

“Well, yeah,” Atsumu chuckled. “Ya wouldn’t stop bitchin’ the last time I didn’t.”

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the tub, relishing in the feeling of his mate’s skin brushing against his own and in the steady thumping of his heart. He wasn’t expecting Kiyoomi to turn around and press his soft lips against his, tasting of matcha, before Atsumu had even washed his teeth.

He opened his eyes, very slowly, and was greeted by the sight of his mate’s gorgeous dark eyes, glinting with a very faint tint of mischief.

“You are not so bad of an alpha, yourself.”

Miya Atsumu was whipped.


	2. ginger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this doesn't make much sense i just enjoy writing these two being soft
> 
> * scallop powder is something they use to wash their fruits and vegetables in japan (: it gets rid of the pesticides and wax too!

Atsumu hated suppressants.

Not only were they a _literal_ pain to administer, but they also never failed to get his mate even _more_ irritable than usual.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

Atsumu closed his eyes and took in a very deep breath, reminding himself that this wasn’t Osamu, and that trying to engage into a cat fight with Kiyoomi wouldn’t be productive at all. While seeing Osamu covered in scratches and bruises was vindicating and worth the damage Atsumu suffered in return, making Kiyoomi any more miserable than he already was would only make everything much harder.

“I know how to wash vegetables,” Atsumu grumbled, his eyebrows furrowing despite his efforts to remain unaffected. “Didn’t I tell ya to go take a nap?”

“No, you clearly don’t know,” Kiyoomi growled, completely ignoring what Atsumu had just asked him. “You aren’t rubbing hard enough. And you didn’t use the scallop powder. There’s no way in hell I’ll eat that.”

Atsumu closed his eyes and counted to three, trying to recall whether he’d done anything wrong earlier that day to earn this. Kiyoomi had seemed like was doing just fine during practice, so Atsumu really couldn’t understand why he was getting an attitude from his mate now.

“I didn’t, because I know ya already did before putting them in the fridge,” Atsumu said. “Ya always do.”

“You can’t be so sure of that.”

Atsumu turned off the tap and put the broccoli down on the cutting board with a frustrated growl of his own, then wiped his hands on his shirt—

“You are _disgusting_.”

—only to be reminded right after how unacceptable that was in the kitchen. Heat crept up his neck, and he had to rub his temples for a few seconds to decide how he wanted to proceed.

Less than two months ago, back when Atsumu and Kiyoomi were only teammates that could barely co-exist peacefully outside of the court, Atsumu would’ve just walked away from there. No doubt of that. He’d always thought he didn’t have what it took to deal with an omega, much less with one as defiant as Kiyoomi.

Right then, however…

“Listen, baby,” Atsumu sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, a gesture that he’d picked up from Kiyoomi himself. “I know yer not feelin’ fantastic right now, so why don’tcha go rest yer pretty eyes for a few minutes for me? I’ll wash the broccoli again, don’tcha worry about that—”

“It’s six p.m.,” Kiyoomi hissed. “If I fall asleep now, I won’t wake up for the rest of the night.”

That was a lie. Kiyoomi was not only a light sleeper, there was also no way he’d be able to sleep through Atsumu giving him his second dose of suppressants.

“Okay, then,” Atsumu conceded, deciding that giving Kiyoomi any more reasons to complain would only play against himself. “Then at least go lay down while I finish dinner. Yer startin’ to feel sick again, aren’t ya?

Silence.

So he was right.

He realized only then that his mate’s cheeks were flushed an even deeper shade of red than that morning’s, as well, and concern tugged at his chest.

“Omi. I want to help ya feel better, but ya gotta let me work for that, ‘kay? At least go sit down. I promise the food will be ready soon.”

Kiyoomi didn’t say a word. He just rolled his eyes, which made Atsumu’s palm _itch,_ and finally turned around to leave the kitchen. Atsumu allowed himself to sigh, then, and brought his attention back to the task he had at hands.

Preparing dinner took him less than twenty minutes. After all, contrary to popular belief, he was the one who actually _knew how to cook._ He’d spent so much time back at home helping Osamu in the kitchen that the fundamentals had just stuck with him, while Kiyoomi had just been spoiled rotten by his parents and had never needed to cook for himself.

He served the noodles and veggies in two bowls, then headed for the living room.

“Here, baby, I told ya—”

Atsumu stared in silence at the scene before him for a few seconds, then felt his heart swell in his chest.

His mate was curled on his side on the sofa, one of his hands tucked under his cheek and the other clutching a cushion tightly to his chest; his thick, long eyelashes a sharp contrast against his pale skin where they rested peacefully on his cheeks.

But _of course_ he was asleep. Atsumu was more than capable of telling when his omega needed a nap, he was an _alpha_. It was almost hard to believe that Kiyoomi had _still_ insisted on giving him a hard time.

He padded softly around the sofa and kneeled in front of his mate, leaving the bowls on the floor for the meantime so he could just focus entirely on being captivated by Kiyoomi’s prettiness.

“Hey, love,” Atsumu whispered, cupping Kiyoomi’s cheek in one of his hands and brushing it tenderly with his thumb. Kiyoomi’s eyelashes fluttered open, and his eyebrows immediately knitted together in a very slight frown _._ He had to be permanently pouty, after all. “Ya need to eat. Ya can go to bed after that.”

Kiyoomi narrowed his eyes, and Atsumu had to hold back a small groan upon realizing that the small nap hadn’t had much of an effect on his mate’s moodiness.

“I said I wouldn’t eat it,” Kiyoomi said, and then he rolled onto his other side to give Atsumu his back. Atsumu slapped a hand over his eyes and sighed, the endearment slowly fading away along with whatever little patience he thought he had left to give place to irritation. “I am not hungry anyway.”

“Ya _need_ to eat. Ya can’t just go to bed without anythin' in yer stomach.”

“I will do as I please.”

“Ya will not.”

“Want to bet?”

“Do ya need me to warm yer bottom with my hand before yer shot, darlin’?”

That did it. Kiyoomi turned to face him again, his cheeks burning bright with indignation and his lips pursed into a frown that set the scene for what promised to be _the_ temper tantrum of the week; but Atsumu didn’t even blink under his glare.

“You wouldn’t,” Kiyoomi hissed.

“Wanna bet?” Atsumu smirked. “Have I ever not followed through my word before, my love?”

“More than once, yes.”

Now it was Atsumu’s turn to frown.

“I meant _about this,_ ” Atsumu said. “Have I ever not turned ya over me knee after promisin’ ya that I would, _omega_?”

Silence again.

Atsumu narrowed his eyes for good measure, but he knew he’d already won this discussion. Kiyoomi was a particularly difficult omega, he’d known that from the beginning; but he wasn’t _impossible_ to tame.

“So, what is it goin’ to be? Will ya eat, or should I spank that stubbornness out of yer lovely ass first, my dear?”

Kiyoomi muttered something very impolite under his breath. Atsumu ready to reward him with a half-hearted smack, but then Kiyoomi finally held a hand out, demandingly.

Atsumu smiled, trying not to look too smug, but his mate's sulky scowl told him that he'd failed at it.

“I’ll go get yer medicine, baby,” Atsumu said, holding back a sigh when Kiyoomi just slapped his hand away as soon as he was handed his food and the chopsticks. “Eat a little at least, okay?”

By the time he was back, with the second syringe ready in his hand, Kiyoomi had already left the plate aside, the yakisoba barely touched at all. Atsumu thought about scolding him but decided against it when his mate showed him his teeth threateningly.

“Roll on yer tummy, Omi. This will only take a second.”

This time, Atsumu got a growl, and it made him frown. If he didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn Kiyoomi was about to give him a hard time.

But he never did. Not when Atsumu was about to give him his suppressants, at least. Before they became mates Kiyoomi would always go to the clinic to get his shots on his own, it wasn’t like this was something Atsumu was forcing him to accept.

“Do ya want the ice? We need to get this done now, baby. It’s already been twelve hours since the last dose. It’ll be of no use if I don’t give ya this one now.”

Kiyoomi didn’t say a word. He just glared at him as he came closer and made no move to obey, not even when Atsumu opened the alcohol wipe.

“It’ll get dry if ya don’t show me yer cheek soon,” he warned, and that finally made Kiyoomi comply.

Atsumu gave him the shot without major inconveniences. Except for the tears, of course. That one _was_ a major inconvenience, but it was one that couldn’t be avoided, no matter how much effort Atsumu put into being as gentle as he could.

This time he rubbed circles on the sore spot for a longer while, hoping that it would keep a small bruise from forming like it’d happened with that morning’s shot. When he was done, he leaned to place a kiss on the small wound.

Kiyoomi hissed, loudly.

“I’m done, I’m done,” Atsumu huffed, very carefully pulling his mate’s clothes back to their place and giving him a soothing pat. “I am sorry, Omi. I just wish I could make it better for ya.”

Kiyoomi didn’t talk to him for the next fifteen minutes, so they ate in silence. Atsumu started to get a bit anxious when Kiyoomi didn’t let him hold his hand, not to say _terribly upset,_ but decided not to insist. He must’ve looked really sad, though, because Kiyoomi ended up curling against his side after a few minutes of sulking.

“This is your fault,” Kiyoomi grumbled, tucking his face into Atsumu’s neck, his knees drawn up to his chin.

That was inaccurate.

Atsumu was well-aware that the need for birth control was mostly his fault, yes, but the suppressants didn’t have anything to do with him at all.

But he could argue with Kiyoomi later, when he wasn’t being even more pouty than Atsumu usually was himself.

“Yes,” he agreed. “Yes, I know. I’m sorry, baby. I’ll do better.”

Kiyoomi smiled against his skin, and Atsumu felt much better already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise i will write something with plot some day
> 
> @drowsydaf — twitter


End file.
